In the Library at Night
by justrumbelledearie
Summary: In cursed Storybrooke, Rumplestiltskin is 'Shaun,' the downcast night janitor who empties the bins and mops the floor of the disintegrating public library. The 'comfort' and 'riches' and 'goodness' promised him by Regina have but a single source—Belle, the buoyant and ever-so-affectionate librarian.


Wednesdays carry him through the rest of his dreary work week.

Wednesday evenings, specifically, between the glorious hours of six and eight o'clock.

One hundred and twenty fleeting minutes sustain him on bleary Monday mornings when he wakes up alone on his sagging, fold-out sofa bed.

A mere one hundred and twenty minutes prop him up when he's down on both knees, scrubbing the antiquated library toilets or scraping fossilized chewing gum from the underside of dingy, wooden study tables.

Without his Wednesdays, Shaun would be desolate, isolated, utterly adrift at sea.

But—on Wednesday afternoons, he pulls on his least wrinkled beige polo shirt and zips up his cleanest grey coveralls. And on Wednesday evenings, beautiful, beautiful Belle pops bag after bag of buttered, microwaveable popcorn in the library's staff lounge. By six o'clock, the Storybrooke Free Public Library smells like the single-screen movie theater that went out of business ages ago.

Belle carefully pours the hot popcorn into brown paper lunch sacks and neatly folds down the top of each toasty-warm, aromatic bag. She arranges the snack in tidy rows on an empty, metal book cart and wheels the popcorn over to the story time circle in the library's Rainbow Reading Room.

She looks for all the world like a cheerful library stewardess.

By six-thirty, children begin to arrive dressed in whimsical cotton pajamas, flannel nightgowns, and fuzzy animal slippers. The youngest clutch stuffed bears and threadbare blankies and smiling rag dolls, and the children old enough to attend Storybrooke Elementary School arrive with reading logs for Miss Belle to sign.

(Miss Mary Margaret rewards a certain number of library visits and pages read with root beer floats from Granny's Diner.)

"My world famous root beer float," Granny always hastens to add, her blue eyes sparkling behind polished, half-moon spectacles. "Now, how many scoops of ice cream do you think I can fit into your glass?"

At 6:45 sharp, Belle will softly knock on the women's restroom door (where Shaun is always certain to be cleaning), and they will exchange shy smiles and courteous 'hellos' before she gestures to the fresh, cotton pajamas slung over the crook of her arm.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your work. May I get changed in here? It's nearly show time—Pajama Jam Story Time tonight."

And at this point he always bobs his head (as though he doesn't have her work schedule committed to memory) and bashfully comments upon her astonishingly endless assortment of pajamas. "Teacups, tonight," he'll say, or "Lizards," or "Ladybugs," or "Little bells," and Belle will duck her head and quietly laugh, as though he's said something witty and not merely stated the obvious like a sad sack simpleton.

"You won't keep Shelby waiting, will you?" she'll sweetly tease as he exits past the dented paper towel dispenser, rolling his rickety cleaning cart behind him, and he'll blush and smile and shake his shaggy head 'no,' no he wouldn't dream of making Shelby wait.

Shaun will stand guard while Belle changes into her jaunty pajamas, stationed just outside the women's restroom door. He'll drink in the sounds of exuberant children and their weary, overly-indulgent parents. He'll duck his chin and hide behind the curtain of his too-long, grey-brown hair if someone glances over his way.

When Belle emerges, dressed in fanciful teacups or grumpy lizards or cheeky, red ladybugs, he'll trail after her, leaving behind his cleaning cart and shuffling shyly over towards the story time circle in the Rainbow Reading Room.

Belle will begin to sing as she approaches the gathering circle of children. Her smile will widen. Her voice will become a high, sweet warble. Young library patrons who are still writing their names in crayon on paper name tags will begin to scratch their letters out a little faster.

"If you're ready for a story, take a seat," she'll sing, beaming around the squirming, fidgeting, enthusiastic circle. "If you're ready for a story, take a seat…"

She'll warble her welcome song to the tune of "If You're Happy and You Know It." Shaun has heard this particular song so many times now that he unconsciously mouths the words.

"Clap your hands and stomp your feet! Make your hands all nice and neat. If you're ready for a story take a seat!"

Belle will sit down upon her prim, high-backed oak rocking chair. She'll smile around the wiggling circle, making eye contact with each and every pajama-clad child.

"If you're ready for a story, touch your nose! If you're ready for a story, touch your nose…" She'll tap the end of her sweet, snub nose with one perfectly manicured finger.

"Clap your hands and stomp your feet! Make your hands all nice and neat. If you're ready for a story, touch your nose!"

By the end of her silly song, all the children and their blankies and their stuffed bears and their rag dolls will have found a place on a brightly-colored carpet square around the story time circle. Belle will reach under her rocking chair and bring out a well-loved puppet whose green head is tucked deep within his terry cloth tortoise shell. A little ripple of excitement will run through the children, and they'll whisper, "It's Shelby! It's Shelby!"

"Shelby…" Belle will gently croon, peering into the turtle's hidey-hole. "Oh, Shelby…"

She'll lean close to her uplifted hand, hidden deep within the puppet's soft body, and press her ear to the hole where Shelby's head should be: "What is it, Shelby?"

She'll feign deep concentration, pretending to listen to a low turtle whisper while the children giggle and nudge one another.

"Oh dear. He says he's feeling very timid today…" she'll apologize to the circle, then lean in closer to catch what else Shelby has to say. "He says he'll only come out if he may sit next to his good friend, Mr. Gold. Shall we ask Mr. Gold to come over?"

There is loud, universal agreement that Shelby's friend should be located immediately and asked to join the story time circle.

Shaun usually hangs back by the picture book shelves until Belle and the children begin to call his name, then he walks quickly over, flushed and grinning, feeling both out of place in his grey janitor's uniform and comforted by everyone else's silly slippers and wrinkled pajamas.

"Mr. Gold, would you be kind enough to sit by me? Shelby is feeling terribly shy this evening."

And—delighting the wiggling, happy children who know exactly what it feels like to need a friend to sit beside for comfort—he settles himself cross-legged beside Belle's chair and her turtle puppet, who then peaks out of his soft shell, gives Shaun a bashful kiss upon the cheek, and sometimes rests upon his shoulder while Belle holds aloft a picture book for all to see, reading aloud and slowly turning the pages.

It is a delightful, soothing weekly routine, and it feeds his fragile soul in a way he prefers not to look at too closely for fear of losing the magic.

It was Belle who noticed him one day, many months ago, paused in his mopping, entranced by her story and the happy, spellbound circle of children gathered round her. She somehow intuited that he wanted to come closer but couldn't find a way. How strange it would seem for a solitary janitor to join a children's story time! And how unnerving for the parents, no doubt—if not worse. So Belle had found an ingenious way to include him, and now—blessed by her (and shy Shelby's) loyal friendship—Storybrooke looks upon him as a benign, if somewhat peculiar, presence.

He's in love with her, of course.

Who wouldn't be? All the children are, and plenty of the grown-ups they bring along with them to the library. The whole town is head over heels, most likely.

Belle is…sweet perfection—beauty and kindness and plucky good nature. She's smart, too. Book-smart in a way he'll never be.

Shaun mulls over all these things, warmth gathering in his chest and stomach and cheeks, while he sprays and carefully wipes the women's restroom counter, anticipating her entrance.

It is Wednesday. It is six o'clock. He cannot help but smile.

"Shaun!" Belle throws open the metal door, and the loud thwackreverberates throughout the spotless lavatory.

This isn't how she normally greets him.

"Please—I need your help! I just found Miss Zelena floating on top of the large aquarium in the Rainbow Reading Room! Will you help me fish her out before the children arrive?"

Belle is holding an empty, plastic grocery sack slung over her right wrist. Pajamas are draped over her left shoulder. Her brow is knit with worry. She smells of buttered popcorn.

Walking fast, he follows her to the cloudy fish tank in the back of the Rainbow Reading Room and straightaway notices Miss Zelena floating glassy-eyed on the surface of the water. Her tawny scales have lost some of their regal sheen. The other goldfish ignore their fallen comrade, leisurely slurping up bits of disintegrating fish flakes.

"I thought I would be able to take care of it myself, but—I found I haven't the stomach for it."

Belle hands him the plastic grocery sack. "I really should buy the library a proper fish net. First Cora, now Miss Zelena. I seem to have a black thumb for goldfish."

"It's my fault," Shaun says, wrapping the plastic bag around his hand like a loose glove. "I probably left the fish flakes out after I fed them yesterday. You know how the children love giving them a snack and seeing them scramble…"

He reaches into the water, gets a firm grip on bug-eyed Miss Zelena through the thin plastic, then lifts his dripping hand out, pulls the plastic bag around the dead fish, and ties it tightly shut.

"There. All done. I'll hide the body. They'll never know." He grins at Belle, then swiftly contemplates his battered, brown work boots, cheeks flushing. Shaun wishes there were one hundred more favors he could grant her, one hundred more acts of service he could perform.

"Henry Mills will notice. He notices everything."

Belle's smile widens when he finally lifts his eyes and glances at her through his shaggy, grey-brown hair. "At least he's old enough not to be too troubled by the death of a fish. And Miss Zelena was a bit of a diva, anyhow. Always nibbling at the other fish's tails and chasing them around the tank. That wasn't much of a eulogy, was it?"

They both stare at the limp, plastic grocery sack Shaun is holding in one hand. He shrugs. "Never much liked her, myself."

"Thank you," Belle says, taking a small step closer, "For the swift rescue. I truly appreciate it. I'm sorry to be so squeamish."

"Don't mention it, and please don't be sorry. A weak stomach is a—it's a nice quality to have. It means you're kindhearted."

He stops himself there, realizing he has just come perilously close toflirting with the most beautiful woman in town. In the whole, wide world.

And in that startled, hesitant moment, Belle leans in and presses her soft, pink lips to his cheek.

Shaun holds his breath and closes his eyes, wishing that he had the foresight to put on a nice aftershave today, wishing that his salt-and-pepper stubble didn't grow so fast upon his face. He stays very, very still, leaning into the kiss—oh, just the very slightest bit.

Belle's warm lips linger for a sweet second, and then the chaste little moment is over—though he can still feel it upon his face: a searing little pulse point, just above his jawline.

"Thank you," she says again, her cheeks for once as pink as his. "The children are coming in. I should go get changed. Pajama Jam Story Time tonight…"

He bobs his heads and absently feels his cheek where Belle kissed it. "Little bells, tonight," he observes, glancing up at the printed pajamas still slung over her shoulder.

She smiles and nods, tucking a lock of brown hair behind one ear.

With a sudden rush of courage, he confesses: "The little bells are my favorite." Then he abruptly spins on his boot heel and hurries out of the Rainbow Reading Room.

He needs to get a bit of cleaning done before Shelby asks for him.


End file.
